


A Pawn of the Gods

by Alone_on_the_water



Series: I am the Mockingjay [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alone_on_the_water/pseuds/Alone_on_the_water
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be honest, she never wanted to have any power that makes her different and special. But staying neutral is not that easy, especially when you are a child of the Big Three. As the time to fulfil the Great Prophecy draws near, she still has a long way to go before becoming the Mockingjay, a beacon of hope in the upcoming darkness. My name is Katniss Everdeen, and this is my story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pawn of the Gods

My name is Katniss Everdeen and I am twelve years old.

Up until a few months ago, I was in a normal school, being a normal student, and having normal day-dreams.

Am I a normal kid? Yeah, I guess you could say that.

If I had known that my “normal” life would be so short, I would have treasured my life even more, trust me.

This is just another normal school day like every other, and of course, my daily schedule included Arts, the most painful class ever invented in all of mankind’s history.

I am not good at doing any kind of art, and I never have been. Therefore, when the teacher announced the assignment of this lesson was to paint a sunset, I could do little else than to groan in pain and curse under my breath.

“Focus on the shades of the colors shown on the canvas right here, beside the setting sun…”the slow and peaceful voice of our art teacher seemed to drawl a long time, nearly sending me into a slumber as the lecture went on, but my paint brush seemed to have a will of its own as the blank canvas in front of me began to be filled by a random combination of colors, apparently nowhere near the idea of a “sunset”.

“What is this that you are drawing…”the teacher walked by my canvas and stopped. He used a long and slender finger to touch my still-wet canvas, and then guffawed like a teenager boy: “I have never seen anything as ugly as this! What is this that you are drawing, Miss Everdeen?”

All the voices in the classroom seemed to fade into nothingness as my internal emotions built up. Yes, I do admit that I have very few friends here at this school, but this, being the laughing stock of everybody in the classroom…was well-beyond anybody’s bottom line.

 

A tear drop fell from my cheeks as I choked back a silent sob. However, the amount of water that followed was a lot more than I had expected.

From the alloy metal faucets to somebody’s plastic cup, everything in the room that contained water exploded in a mighty roar, forming a huge and colorful ball of water that towered above everyone’s heads, before exploding and drenching everyone in the classroom, except me.

I stood in awe as the only possible explanation to this phenomenon hit me: I was controlling the water.

And probably out of revenge.

 

This new idea consumed my mind entirely, blocking out everything from the outside world. I seemed to fall into a kind of trance as everything around me happened in slow motion. Then, a rapid force on my arm jerked me back to reality. I looked up, and saw one of the few friends I have in the entire school---Annabeth.

“Katniss, we really need to go now.” Her voice was urgent, almost a bit demanding.

I like Annabeth, mostly because she is clever and has answers to everything. From math problems to architectural theories, there is almost nothing that she does not know. Therefore, during the years of being classmates with her, I have learnt to trust her, even in the most doubtful situations.

Like now.

“Mmm…” I uttered something really intelligent, but proceeded to follow her anyways.

 

We went fleeing through the gates of the school and into the sparse mid-day traffic. And before long, we burst into the living room of Annabeth’s apartment.

See, Annabeth lives with her dad and stepmother. Although we don’t share the same last name, this family has taken me in as one of their own for as long as I can remember. They are pretty nice people, always reminding me of my full name and insisting that I am special in some ways that I do not even know.

“Oh hello dear, how come you are home so early?” Mr. Chase, Annabeth’s dad, looked up from his laptop and smiled at us.

Annabeth quickly summed up what had happened during my outburst and his face darkened. He threw his laptop on the couch in a dramatic and fluid swirl and dragged me and Annabeth into the one of his prized sports car.

“Where are we going?” I asked, seemingly the only oblivious person in the trio.

“Don’t worry, Kat. We are taking you to some place that is safe, a place that is specially designed for people like us. We are taking you to Camp Half-blood.” Annabeth said.


End file.
